The Inkspot
by SoundGeare
Summary: A dark dream, a dark spot, and a dead man catapult Link into a world of fear, death, and sacrifice. Part 1 of the Cyclic Trilogy
1. The Inkspot

This is part of my three stories competition. Its pretty simple. Whichever story gets the most reviews is the story that gets an update. I don't know when I'll have time to update, but whichever story is in the lead at that point will get dibs. The other two are A Visitor from the Vault (an Adventure Time fanfic) and Company in Exile (a Fallout 3 fanfic).

* * *

Link looked up at the sky, amazed by the dull hues. Grey air seemed to float in currents, carrying bits of ash. Dark black pieces of the ground were floating away. Some collided in the air and were sent off in opposite directions. Dull specks fell from the air as well, slipping downward until they were sucked into the ground.

Link took a step, unsure of how solid the ground would be. He cringed while setting his foot down, half expecting to be sucked up like the ashen debris. As Link's foot touched down, an echo resounded from the dull clap of the impact. The noise doubled and tripled, bending and distorting as it grew to fill the whole world. Link could feel the vibrations running through the air; he could feel them in his bones. The noise traveled on and on until it reached the edge of the world, then it stopped. The sound didn't slip way or fade; it had simply been cut off and immediately ceased existing.

In its [lace, a slow pounding filled the air. It was steady, _thump-thump… thump-thump…_

The beating of some giant invisible heart.

It was at this moment that Link noticed the luminance. The only source of light in the entirety of this darkened world was a blood red glow coming up through the ground. The light burned along with the thumping noise, flickering and fading each time the thumping paused.

Blood red light filled the world, casting shadows where it could not reach. Mysterious silhouettes were revealed in the distance. Some seemed to tower like mountains, jutting straight upward in a way that reminded Link of gnashing teeth. Several small mounds lay on the ground, limp and nondescript.

The blood red light faded, taking the silhouettes along with it. Link was alone in the dark, only able to discern the faint currents of hot air. Each moment of contact felt like breathing down the back of his neck, or fingers trailing down his spine.

The light coursed back through the air, throwing its surreal luminance onto the world. The silhouettes had changed. The mountains were gone, and so were the mounds. In their places was a group of new silhouettes. A speck in the air, far overhead, seemed to be a bird frozen in midflight. Nearer, much nearer, Link saw a mound. Only the one. Link thought he could make out a few charactaristics of an animal. The recognition clicked in Link's mind and he saw the shape of a dead fox. All around it were the black frozen bodies of greedy flies. They were crowded aroundit, unmoving but desperate to get at the body.

Light ebbed from the world. Link was left blinded, He was almost sure something waited out in the darkness. He could hear it moving. Feet scraped on the dry ground, panting breaths tore at the air.

Link could see again, though the only sights were the light itself and a single silhouette. Standing just a dozen or so feet away, the dark shape seemed to stare ominously at Link. The silhouette didn't move, but Link could sense its intent. The moment it was free, the thin would pounce. A faint malevolence seemed affixed to the silhouette.

The light died.

Link stood there waiting for _something_ to happen. He was sure _something_ terrible was going to happen. He could feel _something_ approaching. _Something _preparing. _Something…_

A man faced Link. Half his face was a withered mass of scars while the other bore a deep grimace. The man's body was torn and twisted. He stood hunched over as if trying to protect something against his chest. His body was gaunt, allowing Link to see dark veins and knobby joints clearly. The man's skin seemed to be burned at some points, scarred at some points, and decaying at others.

Despite the man's physical frailty, Link could almost feel waves of strength coming from the man's eyes. Those were bold and dark, locked onto Link's with a ferocity that seemed inexplicable.

The man raised one of his arms, the fingers stretched out like a claw. Link watched him, completely entranced and unable to move.

One bony finger touched Link's forehead and the man smiled grimly.

Suddenly and without any provocation, the man dropped dead.

* * *

Link jerked awake and sat bolt upright. Every inch of him was alert and Link could feel cold sweat covering his body. His breathes were ragged and it took a good minute to slow them along with the rapid pace of his heart.

He looked down at his hand and watched it tremble slightly. He could still feel the old man's touch on his forehead as if had been real.

But no, that was just a dream. Nothing to worry about.

Link got out of bed slowly and looked beyond the plain cloth curtains covering his windows. Dawn already, time to get going for work. Link sat back down on his bed and began to pull on his boots, lacing them up tightly.

Once he'd grabbed the heavy set of ranch keys from beside the door, Link was ready to go.

* * *

Link wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced up at the sun. He didn't have to look far beyond the horizon, so Link turned to his boss and shouted across the field, "Hey Fado, looks like its quittin' time.I'll help you round up the goats then I'll be headin' home." Despite the distance, Link saw his employer nod and they got to work rounding up the goats.

It didn't take long and the sun was still slightly above the horizon by the time Link was leaving. His tired body convinced Link to go straight home. Link was surprised to see Rusl lingering near his house and as he approached, the man walked over to talk to him.

"There's a man in your house," he said simply, "I saw him go in there a couple hours ago and I thought I'd let you know. I don't know if you're expecting him, but…"

Link shook his head and Rusl went on, "Okay, well if he's trouble just holler. I'll wait a few minute before heading back.

"Thanks Rusl," Link said before mounting the ladder.

He climbed up into the tree house, and waited a moment before entering. Once inside he found himself staring at a man seated on his bed.

"Who the hell are you?" Link demanded, "What are you doing here?"

The man just smirked and stood. "I am Captain Daniel Henson, but this isn't about me. May I see your hand, your left hand please, palm up?" The last part was a question, but all Link heard was a demand and an order.

"What? No," Link said sternly, and cut the man off before he could begin talking again, "This is_ my _house, and I'd like to know just what you're doing here."

The man took a step forward and Link became all too aware of the sword hanging at the man's hip. The way the man walked, it seemed to naturally include the weapon.

Before Link could say or do anything else, the man was suddenly standing just in front of him. His hand was gripped around Link's left wrist, twisting it so the palm was facing up.

On Link's palm there was a black dot, directly in the center. It looked just as if ink had been spilled onto his skin.

"Aha!" the man said, reaching for his sword.

As quick and fluid as the man's movement was, Link was faster, somehow. He threw an elbow into the man's face and knocked him backward. He still had a grip on Link's hand and they fell together. Link felt something akin to instinct take over as they grappled on the ground.

Link could feel his hand itching, especially the center of his palm. That hand twisted out of the man's grip while Link's other hand tore the sword from its scabbard. The man grabbed hold of the hilt a moment later and the two of them were left fighting over the half drawn sword.

Link's left hand wrapped around the man's wrist and his eyes went wide. He let out a shriek as oily black smoke slipped out around Link's fingers. The man released the sword and Link drew it out all the way.

In one fluid motion, Link had the blade pressed up against the man's throat.

"What do you want?" Link growled, "Who sent you here?"

The man locked eyes with Link and said, "Go to hell, demon." With a sudden snap, the man threw his head and neck forward, slitting his own throat on the sword.

Link felt the foreign instinct leaving him and his hand stopped itching. He was left staring down at the corpse, his eyes locked on the dead blank ones.

He'd killed a man. The man was dead and Link had killed him. Guilt welled up in him until Link realized the man had done the deed himself. That was enough of a brittle excuse to hold back a breakdown.

Behind him, Link heard the door open and hurriedly close.

"Are you okay Link? I heard a shou…" Rusl said, trailing, "Oh goddesses, what happened?"

"He tried to… kill me," was all Link could choke out.

Rusl nodded and said, "I don't believe you'd have done this if he didn't, but… oh goddesses Link." Rusl moved closer and looked down at the man's body, inspecting an insignia on his jacket.

"Link… this is a royal soldier, an elite one. He wouldn't have just… What's going on?"

"I don't know… I don't know…" Link muttered.

Rusl cupped his face in his hands for a moment then said suddenly, "You'll have to leave, now."

"What? Why?" Link said, jumping up.

"Soldiers like that don't travel alone so there're bound to be more like him nearby. When he doesn't come back, well, they'll come looking. I don't know how you managed to best this one, but I don't think your luck will hold against twenty or more of them at once. I've got some money, here take it. I was going to… oh that doesn't matter now. Take his sword, you know a little about swords don't you? You'll have to…"

Link listened hollowly as Rusl gave him instructions of where he needed to go, who would help him, and other essentials of the world outside Ordon. All the while, Link couldn't help fixating on three facts.

He'd just killed a man

He was going to leave Ordon, the place where he'd grown up, and he had no choice in the matter

There was a black spot on his hand that had caused a man to try and kill him

* * *

If this is intriguing and you want more of it, make sure you leave a review to boost its chances of getting a speedy update.

If you're interested in reading the competition, here are the links:

s/9185905/1/A-Visitor-from-the-Vault

s/9185906/1/Company-in-Exile


	2. The Stranger

Sorry for the long wait, but here it is! I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the time it took to get it to you. Leave more reviews and I'll be able to update sooner.

* * *

Link walked numbly among the loosely spread pines. His hands had stopped shaking a long time ago, and he'd stopped fixating on the dead man since then. That seemed too big a thing to fit inside his head at this moment. It was the smaller things that struck him now, details that piled up until they might bury him.

The small pouch of coins at his belt, less than twenty silver marks but still more money than he had ever seen. It clinked slightly with each step, making him think of Rusl and of his home. Ordon made him think of his house near the edge of town, and that led inevitably to the dead man.

Link's thoughts skipped over the soldier and moved to the sword hanging from his back. A scarlet sheathe, a silver hand guard, a handle wrapped with velvet cord. It was an amazing weapon, as solid and deadly as it was beautiful. The sword was strapped lengthwise atop Link's backpack. The pack only held a few things: a bit of food, a leather water bottle, a few maps of Hyrule, and a small bronze ring wrapped in cloth.

Rusl had given him the ring, he'd given Link all of the things but the ring especially. He had told Link to go to the capital city and find a certain tavern. There were some people there who could help him and they would if Link showed them the ring. So long as Link managed to find these friends of Rusl's, he'd be okay. He just had to make it to the capital.

The sun fell down through the trees, creating patches of sunshine and long shadows in between. Link marched along, across sunshine and shadow alike. As he went on, Link wondered about that mark on his hand. A tiny dot, right in the center of his palm. Like a splash of ink that had stained his skin and refused to wash away.

Link raised his hand slowly to examine his palm and almost stopped walking entirely. The tiny dot was no longer. The whole palm of his hand was pitch black, dark as night. The edge of the mark was puffy and red, like an infected wound or an old scar.

It was growing. The dark patch was spreading. For some reason it didn't itch, though, and Link never would've noticed the spreading if he hadn't looked at it.

He shuddered, thinking about it. He was afraid of that mark on his hand. Afraid of what it had done to the soldier to make that black smoke rise from flesh. He was afraid of what it might do now that it was bigger, and he wanted more than anything for it to be gone.

He looked back down at the spot, filled to the brim with that vain wish. The mark remained, and Link sighed.

Trying to ignore the black-as-ink spot, Link looked back at the surrounding forest and was surprised to find himself just ten yards to the side of a wide dirt road. He considered for a moment changing his course and avoiding the road entirely, but a lonely pang buried the consideration.

He'd been totally alone for close to two days, hiking through the countryside on his way to the capital city. It would be many more days, weeks more likely, before he reached his destination. While Link _did_ have a bow and a quiver of homemade arrows hanging at his belt, he had never been a great hunter. His only food beside Rusl's begrudgingly rationed bread and cheese had been a single rabbit he'd caught almost by accident.

There was no way around it, to reach the capital he'd have to buy more food.

Link walked out onto the road and found himself in the company of half a dozen travelers. On first sight, Link thought they were some kind of ragtag group but a second glance dispelled that idea. The travelers kept to themselves, walking alone or in small groups. Two walked alongside a weary packhorse. One had a sword and a pair of mean eyes while the other carried a small pouch of coins at his belt and kept darting glances at a certain trunk tied to the horse's side.

A merchant and a guard, from the look of it. The others were harder to place. One walked off to the other side of the road, all alone. Despite the heavy midday sun he was wearing a cloak with long sleeves hung past his dangling arms. There was a pack on his back but, from the look of it, there was nothing inside.

Farther back, behind the others, a pair of battered looking children was walking. They seemed to be siblings, an older brother and a younger. The young one couldn't have been older than ten, probably less. His gaze didn't seem to be directed anywhere especially, just staring ahead. His face was dirty and slack. The older brother walked behind him, one hand on his shoulder, with a wary look for everything.

Something bad had happened to them, but Link couldn't guess anything beyond that.

Ahead of the refugee children, yet still apart from the rest, was a man with some kind of wooden case slung across his back. It probably contained an instrument of some sort, marking him to be a performer. While Link watched, a colored ball dropped from the man's bag and he stooped to pick it up. Yes, definitely a performer.

Link fell in among the travelers, walking along the road in a daze. No one talked, or made any noise at all beside the scraping sounds of boots on the ground. Once the performer coughed, but that was it.

It wasn't a long time before they reached the city. The only visible part was the high wall of brown stone and the meager view afforded by the single archway. A guard stood by the arch, leaning back against the wall and looking bored. A sword hung from his belt and he had a conical helmet.

As the travelers approached, the guard looked up and eyed them lazily.

A moment of panic struck Link and he quickly balled his marked hand into a fist and shoved it into his pocket. If soldiers were after him, then a guard might recognize the dark spot and call trouble down upon him.

As he glanced back and forth unconsciously, Link caught the man looking at him from the corner of his eye. Not the guard, he barely seemed to be paying any attention now, but the cloaked man. It was pure luck that Link caught him at it, but he had. The man had been eyeing Link, especially when he hid his hand.

Link rushed into the city and did his best to get lost in the imminent crowd of people.

* * *

Link wandered the streets of the city, taking in the sights and absorbing every sensual aspect of the place. The air smelled like sweat and was filled to the brim with voices. Voices shouted from street corners, hawking their wares. Voices shouted to each other from within the crowd and voices shouted into and out of buildings. Everyone _shouted_. The buildings were large, impressive if a little blocky and plain. No more than two or three windows poked out of any one building, and never more than one on a single story.

Link found himself lost in the mess of the place, just as he had originally intended, but in a wholly more chaotic way. The problem wasn't that Link didn't know what street he was on, it was just so loud that the constant wave of buzzing voices managed to push any semblance of a distinct thought out of his head. All he managed to do was bring up base urges and tiny clips of observation.

Then something stuck in Link's mind for more than the standard fraction of a second.

There was someone behind him, someone who Link distinctly recognized in the sea of blurry faces and bodies in constant motion. The cloaked man stood there, absently pushing his way through the crowd in a course that would soon lead him to Link. It wasn't so much that he pushed through as that the crowd seemed to avoid touching him at all costs. People moved out of his way and even let themselves be pulled off course if only to escape contact with the man.

The cloaked man was only a dozen feet away from Link, and at this distance he could see the spider webbing pattern of silvery thread that stretched around his cloak like creepers.

Panic shot through Link and he forgot all about the crowds, about the pure density of the street, and about his wariness of being discovered. Link turned from the man and shoved his way past the person ahead of him. Link pressed through the crowd, fighting his way in the opposite direction as quickly as his fleeing feet would carry him.

Eventually, he found himself at the edge of the street and standing up against a wall. There was a door here, and with only a moment of hesitation, Link ducked inside and away from the cloaked man.

The first thing Link noticed, once inside the building, was the dim candlelight and the suddenly quiet atmosphere. Somehow the street's cacophony was negated by the threshold of this place. The room, quiet and dim, held a line of somber people who seemed suited to the place.

The line of people began just ahead of Link and lead up to something. Near the other side were a few people, some sobbing and some consoling. A pair of armored men with sword stood in one of the corners, eyeing Link discretely.

This didn't seem like something he wanted to get involved in, and from the look of the men in the corner, it didn't seem that he was wanted. For a moment he considered heading back out the way he had come, but then Link spotted the door on the far side of the room. It seemed to lead out into a street, from the number of people visible though the doorway. That decided Link. The cloaked man was behind him, and escape was ahead. All he had to do was get through this room inconspicuously and he'd be in the clear.

Link bowed his head to match the rest and stepped in line. The people milled along rather quickly, and soon enough Link was standing near the front. He could see now what the line was for and he was starting to wish he had taken his chances with the cloaked man.

Just ahead, an open casket stood on display, the man inside dead and dressed for burial. Right now a family member was crying over the body while some kind of speaker told about the man, his life and death. Link caught a few words such as "brother" "beloved" "stricken" "soldiers" "treasonous" and "witchcraft".

The family member stepped away, forcing Link to step forward and look down on the dead man. He hesitated for a moment, looking back toward the door, then he bowed his head over the stranger's corpse. The cloaked man had just stepped in the door and was looking around. Maybe if Link could just appear to be a mourner, just long enough to make his way to the door.

Hoping against hope, Link listened absentmindedly to the speaker.

"You look now upon the vessel of Eric Austin, son of Talon and Elizabeth Austin, whom he has joined. The ones he leaves behind, among the closest of which are named thusly, his brother Samuel Austin and his two sisters Maribel and Susanna Austin. His beloved fiancé Carol Mathwin will be taken in by the Austin's as if vows had been spoken and rings exchanged at the altar."

From the corner of his eye, Link saw the cloaked man standing near the doorway. In the dim light a view of his face was all but impossible, and Link began to gaze longingly toward escape.

"Beyond the immediate, much family and many friends remain to mourn the passing of this man. Such a tragedy does not occur often in the confines or vicinity of our gentle town of Alrick. Eric Austin, a simple scribe who supplied for his family, who never harmed a soul, was stricken down in the manhunt for a treasonous outlaw. We, the people of Alrick, the friends and family of this man, do forgive them for their mistakes for we know that the evils they prevent far outnumber the few they commit."

Link's eyes, which had been locked on the doorway, swung back to the corpse. Something in the speaker's words connected in Link's mind. Something was strange, something off…

"All we can hope for is that the true outlaw, the practitioner of witchcraft, the murder and the vandal, will be caught soon and brought to atonement for his crimes. For touching that dark power which no mortal ever should, for…"

Link saw something chilling on the edge of the man's downturned hand. As if possessed, Link reached out with his left hand and turned over the man's own left hand. Staining the palm, sharp in contrast to the pale bloodless flesh, was a splotch of ink.

His hand shaking, Link touched the ink and found that it wiped away, like ink should. Unlike the black spot on Link's own left hand.

"You…" the speaker whispered in a voice halfway between a growl and a hiss.

Link's head jerked up and he found himself staring into the speaker's hate filled eyes.

"It is he!" the speaker bellowed, breaking the still air and calling the attention of everyone in the room, "The Outlaw, who so slyly allowed this man to be taken for his crimes. He has returned to mock us, even as we mourn our loved one. Guards! Take him and do justice, not just for us but for all the others he has wronged. Justice!"

Link recoiled from the man, stared at the plainly visible mark on his own hand, then dashed toward the exit he had marked out. Even as he escaped into the street the speakers' voice echoed after him. Link was forced to shove his way through the crowd and he could hear people coming after him as he did so.

Blood pumped in Link's ears, barely beating out the volume of the screams around and behind him. He ran as fast as he could, taking every turn possible and ducking into every alley, but somehow it still wasn't enough. Every time he turned, Link saw a soldier hot in pursuit. Once he had seen the cloaked man.

Link sprinted around a corner, into an alley, and immediately found himself cornered. The alley was a dead end, with no doors, or even windows, opening into it. Link turned quickly, hoping to dart back out before the soldiers caught up.

It was too late.

Even as Link turned, a soldier ran through the mouth of the alley and was immediately followed by another, and then two more. The alley was filling quickly, and Link could even see the cloaked man standing at the back of the crowd.

Link backed away from the mass and looked around the alley behind him. Still no doors, just a clay pot in the corner and a few stacked crates. A thought flashed in Link's head and he realized that one of the alley walls was only a single story high.

He spun around and ran for the crates, scrambling up the stack and leaping for the roof. Link managed to pull himself onto the flat stone roof before any of the soldiers caught him. However, they didn't seem particularly dismayed by his escape and they began climbing up after him.

Looking around, Link saw an adjacent single story roof and ran that way without thinking. He leap across the dividing alley and kept moving. From there he scaled a second story wall and reached a higher roof.

The soldiers followed him as he did this, staying just a step behind his every move. As Link scaled the wall, they were landing on the very roof he was leaving. As Link leapt from that roof to another, they were climbing. However, Link quickly realized they were catching up. He couldn't keep evading them like this, eventually they would catch up.

So with this thought in mind, Link took a deep breath and stopped running. One hand flew for the soldier's sword and he drew it out. It took only a moment for two soldiers to catch up with him, then four more who had apparently been slower.

Then the cloaked man.

Something itched in the back of Link's mind, the fear of death. He knew that there was no way his meager sword training would hold him against six soldiers and the man in the back. His only hope lay with the black mark.

Link held the blade out in front of him, glaring at the six soldiers who had formed into a neat semi-circle around him. They began to close in, so Link lashed out wildly, forcing them back. They retreated a step away, then held their positions. They were obviously better swordsmen than him, and they knew it.

The black mark still remained placid, refusing to act as anything more than an abnormally dark patch of skin.

The soldiers began closing in again, taking their steps in unison. They moved closer, knowing Link could do nothing to stop them so long as the inkspot didn't give him any assistance.

Link's palm began to itch.

Link didn't know what he should do, or what he could do, so he allowed the waves of instinct to wash over him.

Something flowed out from his left palm, a pulsating miasma that snaked up the blade, engulfing it and his other hand in a deep black blaze. It burned around him, sucking all light and warmth from the air. The dark sword was at least a foot longer than the soldier's sword had been, and even that was surrounded by a faint aura of darkness.

The soldiers reacted with surprisingly steely determination. Two of them leapt forward, weapons raised, while two others stayed back and two others tried to flank Link.

Link swung the dark sword in a wide arc, attacking one of the nearest soldiers. He raised his sword to defend but the fiery darkness bit through steel, then through flesh. The man fell down in a smoldering heap.

Something moved in the corner of Link's eye and he spun around just in time to catch a sword with his own, destroying it. Link kicked out a foot and knocked the man down. Link ducked out of the way of another sword and pivoted on his knee. The dark blade cut through a pair of men, dropping their top halves separately from the rest.

Link stood from his crouch and watched the cloaked man pull a short sword out of the fallen man's throat. The other two men were dead, almost completely dismembered.

The heated instinct was still pulsing through Link, and the shadowy fire attacked of its own accord. The cloaked man spun around just in time to pull his sword up in the way of Link's dark blade.

With an explosive sound and a shockwave that threw them both backward, the swords repelled each other. Link felt the itching, throbbing power ebbing away and the dark sword faded away in a faint mist. The sensation in Link's palm disappeared and he dropped the soldier's sword. It clattered against the flat stone roof.

Link lay dazed for a moment before fighting to regain his feet. After struggling, he got onto his knees and saw the cloaked man in the same position. However, Link couldn't see the man's swords anywhere on the roof.

"What are you?" Link groaned out, just loud enough for the man to hear.

He looked up at Link, and climbed shakily to his feet. Link did the same and they locked hard gazes. There was something in the man's eyes that seemed deadly, something that Link knew he didn't possess.

"I'm like you," the man growled, holding his hands above his head so the sleeves fell down below his elbows.

As Link watched the skin of his palms split and a pair of short swords slid out of his flesh. Confident that he had made his point, the man somehow brought the blades back inside his arms and lowered them.

"I'm here to help you…" the man said, pulling the sleeves back over his hands, "And to bring you back to the Children."


	3. The War

"It's called the Penumbran Mark," the man said, gazing deeper into the woods, "It's one of the thirteen manifestations of the divine."

"The divine?" Link muttered, staring down at his palm. The thing had grown again. The inky black spot covered the whole front of his hand, the uneven edge slipping over onto the other side in some places. It even extended a full inch and a half down his wrist.

"You mean the Goddesses. Right? The Three Goddesses: Din, Nayru, and Farore."

"Well," the man said, his voice sounding tired, "At least you know some of it. There's more though. A forth divinity."

"A fourth?" Link gasped, "What are you saying? There's a fourth goddess?"

"No, not a Goddess. The fourth is a god. He is called the Dark God… Naihil, as his followers call him. Din is the goddess of fire and strength, Nayru the goddess of water and wisdom, and Farore represents life and courage. Naihil… he is the god of darkness and death."

Just the idea of a divine being devoted to those sent chills down Link's spine. But how had this fourth divinity been kept a secret? And why were his touches not visible in the world as the Goddesses' were?

Link asked the man.

"The Dark God is sealed away in a prison that was made for him by the Goddesses. His only touch upon the world is made indirectly, through the hands of his followers. He has, among them, his own manifestations, humans with a shard of his power."

He glanced back down at his hand. Staring at the blackened flesh, remembering the dark blade of shadowy fire, thinking of the soldier's burning flesh, Link shuddered.

"I'm I… is the penum… am I a manifestation of th…"

"No," the man said sternly, "You are not a manifestation of the Dark God."

"Then this is from the Goddesses? I'm a manifestation of them?"

"No."

"What then? If this power isn't from the Dark God, and it isn't from the Goddesses, then where is it from?"

"You aren't on either side, technically," the man was silent for a moment, apparently thinking, "If the Goddesses are the jailers, and the Dark God is the prisoner… then you would be the key to his cell."

"The key!?" Link blurted out, "What do you mean I'm the key?"

The man growled quietly, muttering something to himself. "There are others who can explain it better than me, much better. I was supposed to wait until we get back, but I've already opened my damn mouth… Bear with me, there are two groups of manifestations, six who are followers of the Dark God and six who are followers of the Goddesses…"

"But you said thirteen earlier," Link cut in.

"I know…" the man growled, "I was getting to that. These two groups are pretty evenly matched…"

"How can the Dark God have the same number of manifestations as the Goddesses? There are three of them and only one of him."

"The Dark God is stronger than any one of the Goddesses, but combined they are a match for him. As I was saying, the two groups are pretty evenly matched. A fight between any two manifestations or… goddesses help us… all twelve… would end in a stalemate. A bloody destructive stalemate, but a stalemate none the less. You," he said, pointing over his shoulder toward Link," are what tip the scales."

"What do you mean I tip the scales?" Link demanded, still engrossed by the mark, "I don't think I'm any stronger than you are."

The man rounded on Link and chuckled, "Probably not, but how long has it been since the mark showed up?"

Link told him that it had only been a few days.

"Your strength grows as the mark does, and the mark is going to keep growing, faster and faster, until you'll need a cloak as well."

Link looked at the man's cloak, observing the way it concealed his body and skin in most places. "Do you mean… You have a mark? It's all over your body…"

"Yes. All of the manifestations have a mark. I have the Light Ferrous Mark."

The man looked back and forth, making sure they were completely alone in the woods, before turning back to Link and lowering his hood. Light grey swirls trailed up his neck and across his face. The marks shimmered in the sunlight, almost as if quicksilver had been pumped under his skin.

"It will take a long time for your mark to grow to this extent," the man said, "I've been training with it for years."

"And…" Link murmured, "I'm…"

"…as strong if not stronger by now." The man finished, "The Penumbran Mark is the strongest. At full power it nearly rivals the divinities."

Link looked down at his hand, dumbstruck. That much power, locked inside such a tiny mark. He was… Link couldn't even begin to comprehend it. There was no shred of his being that could accept him, Link of Ordon, being nearly as powerful as the goddesses.

"I'm the… key…" Link murmured, following the man numbly. The shocks kept piling up. The mark, the soldier, the death, leaving home, the chase, the deaths, this man, now this…

"Yes, and it's a good thing I found you before they did. Dark things are happening, and there are worse to come. Soon enough it might be necessary for you, me, and the rest of the children to defend the lock at all costs."

"What!?" Link demanded, shocked.

"As I said, the bearer of the Penumbran mark is the key. If you are captured by the Dark God's followers, the lock could be opened."

The thought of releasing this new divinity appalled Link. He had only learned of the Dark God today, but he was terrified of what might happen at his release.

"The previous incarnation was captured," the man said, "But he managed to pass the mark on to you and die before they could use his powers to destroy us all."

"The previous incarnation?" Link questioned.

"Yes, when a manifestation dies, his soul and his mark are passed along. We are all caught in an eternal web along with the divinities," the man's eyes darkened, "This is a fight that's been fought a thousand times or more. Not always with the same soldiers or in the same place, but it's always been and always will."

Then the man whispered quietly, to himself more than to Link, "We've won so far, but how long can we keep that streak up…"

Shaking himself slightly, the man pulled his hood back up. "It'll be a few more days before we reach the children." He was silent for a while after that, apparently brooding over the endless war.


	4. The Dirt

Trees were visible in every direction as the two of them traveled. The ground was all soft black dirt, interlaced with roots and coated in leaves. The going was relatively easy. The ground was flat, the terrain was even. They were even heading down a slight slope. The hardest thing for Link was to carry a backpack full of supplies and keep up the pace.

This, however, eventually managed to grow tiring. With more time it grew beyond tiring. Link's feet felt sore from walking for so long.

For a moment he looked down at his left hand out of habit. His view was blocked by the long sleeve of his shirt coupled with a darkly colored glove. As the mark continued to grow, it had become necessary to hide it whenever they entered or neared a village. The man, who had revealed his name to be Mason, had taken a few coins and returned with a pair of gloves, a shirt with long sleeves, and two backpacks full of supplies.

It had been almost a week since Link left the city with Mason, and a full ten days since the ink spot had showed up on his hand. After ten days of gradually spreading, the spot was much more than a spot. The whole of his left hand had turned pitch black, and the coloring reached halfway up his forearm.

Suddenly they stepped out of the trees and Link found himself staring out at a valley set in a looming stone glacier. Less of a valley, Link decided, and more of a canyon.

Mason didn't pause before continuing. He led Link down into the bottom of the canyon, along the side of a small river. It was only a trickle, really. The passage was close to thirty feet wide, with walls that seemed to stretch upward forever. They brown-orange surface was made up of layers which striated the surface all the way up.

Soon after they had entered the canyon, Link stopped and glanced back. The sun was still floating high above the horizon, burning a hole in the sky. He could see the forest they had been traveling through as well, just beyond a ridge.

Something about the ridge caught his attention. It seemed that there was something there, standing on it. A shape, silhouetted by the sun's rays. There seemed to be a person standing on the ridge staring down at Link and Mason. The shape didn't move, then suddenly it was gone.

Like it had just been blown away by the wind, the silhouetted shape just disappeared.

Link wondered if he should tell Mason about this, but he decided that it had just been his imagination. There was no way a person could just disappear like that. Mason's blades and Link's black fire were one thing, but disappearing was a whole other matter.

They traveled alongside the river for a few hours, making good use of the time remaining before sunset. By the time they finally did stop, Link's feet were sore and his legs were killing him. They didn't take long in making camp, since it was just setting out their sleeping bags. They made a quick supper of food from their packs then retired by the time the sun had gone down.

* * *

It was cold and dark when Link woke up. He didn't know what it was that managed to pull him out of his deep and dreamless sleep. He couldn't see much except for the faint shadowy mass that he took to be Mason in his sleeping bag.

Try as he might, Link couldn't make himself go back to sleep. It seemed that there was a kind of itch in his head, one that he couldn't scratch and it kept him awake. Finally he relented and stopped fighting for sleep.

He had taken the gloves off before going to sleep, just in case. Moving slowly, Link used that to his advantage and slipped his bare black hand out into the night air and pressed it against the ground.

Mason had tried to teach him some things. They weren't things that the man himself could do, but things he had seen the previous bearer of this mark doing. Most of the descriptions didn't seem to be helpful, but Link had managed to work out a couple of the tricks and techniques.

Link pressed his bare hand to the cool ground and concentrated on something the previous bearer had called the _Aura Web_. Basically, the technique involved sending out a quick pulsing flood of his energy and feeling the way it bounced off of things. For some reason, living things all had different signatures and he could read them from afar like this.

Focusing, Link sent out the pulse and felt it humming across the ground. It seemed that just for a moment he could see everything around him, even without any type of light. There was Mason in his sleeping bag, and the certain tiny twang of energy that meant a lizard, and there was a beetle, and a mouse, and…

…and half a dozen men coming this way, moving slowly.

The shock burst into Link's mind and he found himself jerking out of his sleeping bag immediately. Still climbing to his feet, Link called out to Mason.

"Mason! Wake up!"

It seemed that everything sped up a thousand times at that moment. Mason burst out of his sleeping bag, a two foot long curved blade already sliding out of each palm. They shined in the moonlight.

The men who had been sneaking suddenly stopped sneaking. They ran out of the night and attacked. Link found himself face to face with two of them, each brandishing silhouetted blades. As one struck out, Link felt the itching in his head overcome him and was already preparing one of the techniques he'd worked out.

This one was specialized for this situation, for when Link would find himself facing an armed enemy with no weapon of his own. As it turned out, Link couldn't just conjure a spectral weapon out of the air, it had to have some kind of base for him to work with.

Link used his own hands as a base and felt the buzzing energy cover them. He launched his palms up toward the striking sword and he caught it in the air. Holding the blade with one hand, he stuck two fingers out on the other hand and made a short knife of the dark fire.

He plunged it into the chest of the attacking man and leapt backward, out of the way of the other's sword.

As the blade swung through the empty air, Link dropped down to the ground and placed his hands on the stone. With this technique, he would use the enemy himself as the base.

Black fire pulsed out of Link's hands and roared across the ground. It crawled up the man's legs and coated him within seconds. A moment later it flared and retreated, leaving a badly burned corpse.

Once the second man was dead, Link looked around and realized with a start that there were easily a dozen shapes milling about in the darkness. Probably many more, because one of them brandished two swords and was twirling about the mass but doing nothing to thin their ranks.

Link wished he had been able to figure out more of the techniques. He could remember one or two that would be especially useful here. However, there were only three he had worked out: the _Aura Web_, the _Hand Blade_, and the _Body Flare_.

If only he could figure out how to kill more than one at once. He just needed something big, something that could take care of them all at once. Maybe if he…

It suddenly occurred to him.

Link dropped down and pressed his hands against the floor. Gritting his teeth and concentrating, Link sent out both types of pulses, one just after the other. However, there was no specific target for the Body Flare pulse. There was only one specific signature that it would not target.

He growled as the extensive second pulse took its toll on him. All around, pillars of black fire were shooting up and devouring men where they stood. When the inferno let go, a charred body fell to the ground and it moved on to the next man.

Corpses dropped by the dozen.

The whole episode of flares took almost a minute. A whole minute of constant death, where several men were killed per second. Finally the burning stopped and Link could feel a vast emptiness inside of him. So hollow, and cold. Gnawing hunger as well. He had thought travelling was tiring, but that was nothing beside this.

Link had been crouched during all of that, but now he felt his whole body give out and he collapsed to the ground. The last thing he felt was the cold stone against his face.

* * *

Mason's breath was still coming in ragged gasps as he reached his pack. He could have rested for a few minutes before doing this, but he needed to know.

He lit the oil lantern and raised it high above his head. All around, there were bodies, charred and blackened by Link's desperate attack. Goddesses knew how much of a toll that had taken on his body. Mason needed to check on the kid, but this was more important right now. He had to know.

In the light of the flickering lantern, while Mason watched, the bodies all began to crumble. They disintegrated and fell apart until they were vaguely body shaped piles.

The night wind blew and the piles began to float away, and Mason knew for sure then.

Those weren't ashes, and they were nothing like the human body. The dust being carried away was just that. Dust, dirt, soil, sand, earth. It didn't matter what you called it. The stuff on the wind was a terrifyingly famous tell.

Sauru Aishen was here.

Mason felt his blood running cold as he ran to get Link. They had to hurry and get moving by any means necessary.

They had to get to the rest of the Children where it was safe.

* * *

Sauru Aishen pulled his hands out of the soft earth and stood up slowly. He wiped the residual grime off by patting his hands together lightly.

Laughing softly he turned to his two companions. In the moonlight he could clearly see the swirling marks that wound their way across their faces.

"He's strong," he said simply. There was no frustration in his voice, and no amusement. Just observation.

"Strong enough?" Tayri asked, her hard eyes finishing the question.

Alend grunted, wordlessly repeating the question.

"Not quite yet, but soon enough he will be. The mark is young yet,"Sauru Aishen replied, his voice soft and deadly, like a snake.

Alend nodded and Tayri was silent, still staring.

Sauru Aishen motioned with one hand for them to follow and began to run after his prey.

* * *

This is actually my favorite chapter so far, but its also kind of strange. While writing this, it came across as very very VERY Naruto-esk. I'm still not quite sure if that works, but if it does I'll keep it up.

Don't forget to review, let me know what you think.


	5. The Scholar

Link opened his eyes and found himself staring at a solid stone ceiling. Something about the shape of it told Link that he wasn't in a building, but rather some kind of cavern. It was rough and uneven, with several types of stone apparent in the flickering light.

Sitting up in the bed, Link started to look around. However, he realized at the same moment that he was in a bed and instead opted to stare down at it. A plain grey blanket stretched across the narrow bed. Beyond the foot of the bed, Link saw a plain expanse of wall. It held the worn and colorless appearance of stone.

Suddenly panicked, Link started trying to get out of the bed. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where any of his things were. He didn't know where Mason was. He didn't…

"That's probably not such a good idea," a voice said.

Link froze and turned his head slowly to face the source. There was a man sitting in a small wooden chair with a book in his hand and a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

"Just calm down, you're with friends." The man said gently, shutting the book and setting it lightly on a small table by his side. "I don't know how much Mason told you, but you're with the Children."

"I… he told me." Link said hesitantly, "Who are you?"

"Shad," he said simply, "But first, how much did he tell you? I'm supposed to make sure you understand all of this. So go ahead and tell me what you know so I can fill in the gaps for you."

"Well, he told me about the Dark God and about the manifestations of the… the divine. Where the manifestations' powers come from, and he told me I'm supposed to be the key to the Dark God's prison. There's some kind of war," Link said, pouring out the things he could remember.

The man just watched him and nodded as he talked. "Typical of Mason, he only skimmed over the surface of it. But that's what I'm here for. You may have guessed it from my appearances, but I'm something of a scholar. I'll make sure you understand all of it."

Link nodded and prepared himself for an onslaught of information.

"I'll start with the basics. As I said before, you are with the Children. We are in a hidden network of caves deep in the canyon. The Children is short for The Children of the Goddesses. We aren't actually descendants of them, merely heirs of a few scattered fragments of their power. There are six different manifestations, or rather six fragments that are manifested. Firstly there is Mason's mark, the Light Ferrous Mark. He can create blades from within his body. It seems to suit his disposition. Then there is the Aquatic Mark, mine."

Pausing for a moment, Shad raised one hand and Link watched as an orb of water formed above his index finger. Tapping it against the middle finger and so on, the orb floated from one side of his hand to the other across the tips of his fingers.

"If it isn't already obvious," Shad began again, "I can conjure and control water. Next, there is the Fulgeric Mark which allows power over electricity and lightning. Then there is the Ventic Mark…"

Shad continued to talk for a long time, describing several other marks and what abilities went along with them. It was during this half of the speech that Link began to feel his exhaustion creeping back. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy as he listened. Shad's words seemed to grow farther and farther away. It seemed that Link was only gleaning a fraction of what the man said.

"Looks like that's enough for today," Shad said suddenly, "You're still exhausted. Rest. I think I can help you get stronger once your body is up for it. But sleep for now."

Shad grabbed his book and left Link alone in the room.

Link lay back down and just stared at the ceiling for a minute. He tried to remember all of what Shad had told him, but gave up after a short while. Link shut his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

However, just before he slipped away, Link heard two voices conversing down the hall.

"They are almost upon us, we have to move now."

"We can't. You know we can't."

"We don't have much time. We don't have any."

"Ashei isn't back yet. Without her there will only be four of us. You know we would be useless with that number. We will depart as soon as she returns and not a second later or a second sooner."

The voices stopped and Link drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Link woke up, he was still alone. Sitting up, Link pulled the grey blanket down to examine the mark.

To his surprise, the inky darkness was no longer constrained to his hand or even his forearm. The black mark reached all the way up to his shoulder. As it got farther away from its origin, Link noticed that the flat darkness seemed to be thinning out. It was still black, but it was beginning to branch and divide.

Link still couldn't quite make out a design, but it would apparently be there soon. Thinking about this, Link wondered why the mark was growing so fast. Or… how long had he been asleep?

Pulling the blanket all the way down, Link swung his legs out of the bed and stood up. His legs felt weak, as if they hadn't been used for a whole week. Link nearly fell over at first and was forced to catch himself on a table that stood just beside his bed.

Moving slowly, Link inched his way along the wall and felt the strength coming back to his legs in spurts. He found his shirt lying discarded at the foot of the bed. Link stumbled over to it and pulled it on while propping himself up on the bed.

Once he was dressed, Link took a breath and stepped away from the bed. His balance still seemed a little off, but Link found that he could manage to stand unaided.

Moving on, he headed out the door and into the hallway. He gazed around in awe at the smooth sandstone walls and ceiling. There were no real corners and no flat edges. It was all rounded and even slightly wavy. The corridor was closer to an upright oval than any other shape.

He headed down the hall a little way, still examining the architecture. The passage seemed to stretch on forever. Torches hung every few feet, but pools of darkness still existed between the patches of flickering light.

Link found himself looking especially at the shadows. They brought to mind the reason he was here and the reason for the mark on his left arm. The Dark God was imprisoned, but if he wasn't strong enough, Link could be used to release him.

The thought drove fear deep into the pit of Link's stomach, and he could feel worry starting to build. What if he wasn't strong enough? What if he was captured? What if he couldn't do whatever he needed to do? What if he failed everyone…?

"Oh there you are!" Shad said, appearing suddenly beside him, "I'm glad you didn't get too far. These tunnels can be quite a maze."

"You mentioned yesterday," Link began, his voice dry and hollow, "that you could help me get stronger."

Shad paused and looked over at him. They met looks for a moment and Shad said, "I don't know if you're ready yet. You don't sound so…"

"I'm rea…" Link cleared his throat before continuing on, "I'm fine. I swear. I'm ready for whatever you have for me."

Shad still seemed skeptical, but he relented.

"The previous bearer of the penumbran mark kept a journal of his abilities and techniques. Luckily, he entrusted it to me before he was captured. Between your intuition and my firsthand experience, we may be able to divulge some of the information. It will be difficult and risky, but you'll be able to make leaps and bounds forward in just a little time."

It took less than a second for Link to insist that he could handle it, and for him to request Shad take him to the book.

Link stood in the center of a circular cave. There were to entrances, each directly across from each other. Shad stood near one, a small leather bound book in his hands.

"Show me what you've learned to do so far," he said, "I need to know where we should start, and what your limit is."

There were a lot of logs stacked against one wall. Each was about two feet tall and a foot thick. Shad walked over and grabbed one from the pile. Dropping it near Link so that it stood on one end, Shad said, "Use these as dummies. Just demonstrate what you know on these."

Link nodded and said, "I need my sword for one of them, but I can show you the rest. Well, most of the rest, _Aura Web_ is only really in my mind."

Moving on, Link turned to the log, pulled his hands together, and prepared his energy.

Pulling the energy from the mark, Link pushed it into his hands and didn't stop until they burned with black fire. He felt strange doing it for show, but Link kept on anyway.

He punched the log with one hand while extending the fingers of his other hand into the shape of a knife. The surface of the log burst into splinters, leaving a raw crater a little bigger than his fist. Even as the shock knocked the log backward, Link brought his other hand down and sliced it in two diagonally.

The pieces fell to the stone floor and shattered. Link looked up at Shad for a moment and the man said, "Great job, very good. Anything else?"

Link nodded and got out a half dozen more logs. He positioned them in a crescent in front of himself. Sending out a small pulse, Link made dark flames erupt from one of them. Sending out a full pulse, Link burned them all, one at a time from left to right.

"That's it," Link said, turning to Shad, "So what's in the book?"

"Well," Shad said, flipping through the pages, "I think we should start with a ranged attack, since that seems to be your weak spot. How about… the _Lance Web_?"

"Sounds interesting,"

"Basically, you send a pulse out _through the air_, only it's not so insubstantial as the _Aura Web_. The pulse is actually just a fine single file collection of barbs."

Link was already setting up more logs. Once he was finished, Link stood in the center and readied himself. He pulled his energy into a tight ball and sent it out. However, he only managed to send out an _Aura Web_, which told him that Mason was walking down the hall outside.

Link tried again, but all he got was an _Aura Web_.

Link growled and drew the energy tighter than he had before and sent it out with stronger. It seemed that nothing happened, but Link saw Shad throw himself to the floor at the corner of his vision.

The log exploded, as did the walls. A single straight line was drawn all the way around the room. Shad picked himself up from the ground and laughed nervously, "Still have my reflexes apparently."

Link tried to apologize but the man just insisted they keep working. Link did just that, and in time he had a handle on the _Lance Web_. Once he had done that, they moved on to another technique, then another.

In succession, Link learned the _Burn Web_, the _Burn Lance_, _Thrown Blades_, and _Detonation Blasts._

He was sweating by the time Shad turned the page and froze. He just kept staring at the page, not saying anything. Link looked at the man and finally asked him what it was.

"It's… it's just that, Shad stammered out, "It's the _Dark Seal_."

Link looked at him still, the name not meaning anything.

"Yeah, okay. What do I do?"

Now Shad was staring at Link. "The _Dark Seal_ is near to what the Goddesses did in imprisoning the Dark God. The _Dark Seal_ is a technique that can actually remove things from existence."

Link stared at Shad, his mouth agape. "Remove something from existence?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes, it is a terrifying concept. It is one of the oldest techniques and one of the most advanced. As far as I know, no one has ever even attempted it in combat for fear of the possibilities. It is far too complicated for combat, as well. The previous incarnation could do it. He said it was like extending all of himself around the something, then pulling it inside of himself. Not just inside of his body, but his soul as well. Apparently there was a sort of empty space there, right at the center. Not an emptiness exactly, but a hole. No, that's not right either. He said it was like a doorway, into a place where nothing existed, absolutely nothing at all. Hey, what are you… Link no!"

But it was too late.

Link had already pulled a log from the pile and sat it on one end. Link had taken hold of his energy and reached out around it.

Link had already searched for the doorway and found it.

He had already tried to use the _Dark Seal _on the log.

He was standing there across from the log, feeling his whole consciousness leak away. His heartbeat was becoming laborious and his fists were clenching and unclenching convulsively. Sweat was pouring down his face and arms in streams.

Shad reached Link's side just in time for him to fade away and collapse.

* * *

Link opened his eyes and immediately felt a crushing pain in his skull. It spread across and throughout his body. The pain was dull and everywhere.

"I'm glad you're alive," a voice said. It was both far away and painfully near. A whisper and a shout in his ear.

Link tried to sit up but the pain flared up, preventing him from doing so.

"Don't move. You wouldn't want to jinx it," Shad said.

"What happened?" Link moaned.

"You tried to use the _Dark Seal_. I should have warned you not to, but that's past now. You're not nearly strong enough. The _Dark Seal_ uses an enormous amount of power. You just barely managed to accomplish it, but the effort nearly destroyed you. The bigger a thing you try to seal, the more energy you'll use."

"Oh…" Link whispered, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay," Shad said, "You survived, so it's not all lost. Just don't do that again. It's too dangerous and you're too important."

Link was feeling tired, but he made himself keep talking. "Important for _what_ exactly? What am I supposed to do?"

"You should rest," Shad said, "I'll explain that when you're ready. I just wanted to warn you before too much time went past."

"Okay, but… could you bring me the journal?"

"What?" Shad asked, seeming startled by the question.

"If I can't do any practicing, then maybe I could just read it. I might help, me reading it myself."

"I don't know," Shad said slowly, "If you…'

"I won't try anything. I'll just read it. Just until I'm strong enough to practice again, then you can have it back."

Shad was silent, just looking at Link for a moment.

"Okay, fine. I'll bring it by later and leave it on the table. Now sleep so you can get your strength back."

Shad walked out into the hall and Link fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

"I don't even know how I could describe it. There is a sort of… hole inside of my head. Not a hole… I don't know," a dry voice read aloud. Link recognized the journal's description of the _Dark Seal_, but he didn't recognize the voice.

"Something almost like a door, or a gate. Possibly a net. Yes, a net seems right. If I use enough of my power, I am able to force things through the net and out into the other side. Into the void."

Link sat up and looked toward the door. There was a man standing there, leaning against the wall. He had the journal in one hand and he seemed entirely focused on reading aloud the passage about the _Dark Seal_.

"Link!" a distant voice screamed. There was panic in the voice that wasn't lost in the echoing of the tunnels. "Link! Wake u-"

The voice was cut off suddenly.

Link stared at the reading man with a sudden sense of fear. He started to climb out of his bed, but he couldn't seem to move for some reason.

The man by the door dissolved suddenly, dropping out of the air as a mass of sand.

Link gasped, and a grainy fist was shoved into his mouth and over his nose. Link was screaming inside. He couldn't breathe. There was a face looking down at him, and it seemed familiar. The man was holding the journal under one arm. Link suddenly recognized the face. It was the face of the men he had fought in the night.

The last thought Link had before succumbing to the asphyxiation was to wonder how those hundreds of men could've had the same face.

* * *

I'm sorry for the large gap, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Good news! I've been having trouble keeping up on all of my stories since there are a lot of them, but not for long. In the next few weeks I will be finishing four of the six stories I'm currently working on. That means I'll have no excuse for slacking. You'll get an update every week just like you should.

Anyway, please leave a review, let me know what you think.


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